


Dark Paradise

by CupcakeChoco



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst and Romance, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pre-Devil May Cry 3, Young Dante (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeChoco/pseuds/CupcakeChoco
Summary: Things look better for Dante with his new venture and with a roof over his head to live in, all he would have to do is wait for the clientele to give his show. However, his peace is destroyed with inexplicable and constant dreams about a strange place linked to his father. With no alternative, the devil hunter decides to thoroughly explore the buried history and hidden secrets about the Legendary Dark Knight, finding not only more mysteries wrapped around his figure, but also, a young woman whose past and motivations connect to Sparda.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

A tumultuous saturday night, without service and sleepless, a little promising combination for the hunter. Without much choice, judging by the countless failed attempts to sleep, Dante chose to wander aimlessly through the trendy streets that, at that time, were filled with all kinds of nightly entertainment, some of which he was adept, although infrequently, almost a visitor. casual, like Love Planet - a very popular strip club nearby. His variable mood, due to lack of rest, did not contribute to his distraction and the noise only made him more irritable, which overshadowed his original goal. He was barely able to reason coherently and calculate the days spent without the slightest rest, this simple task required too much of his exhausted brain. And if he had been human, he would certainly have collapsed with such prolonged sleep deprivation. However, it did not mean that he did not suffer the consequences and that he did not feel it infiltrating every fiber of his fragile body.

He hated the idea of appearing vulnerable because of a physiological need that his human gene gave him, especially with his line of work that made it mandatory to be in excellent physical and mental condition, which, really, was not his case.

The present evil did not have a shape, a tangible body, which would make it easier for you to eliminate it. His martyrdom came from the depths of his subconscious, which suddenly decided, without his authorization, that he needed to find a certain place in which he did not know and that, his inner demon, cried out to claim for a reason that he did not understand. Since awakening the blood of his demonic inheritance, some things have become more difficult to perform without the interference of his vulgar instincts and, which constantly pushed his sensations to the surface, leaving everything on the surface.

And, he realized, disgusted, that his amulet emitted a weak resonance in response to daydreams - proof that it was related to Sparda. He had nothing against his old man, however, he did not like to be drawn into his affairs and be forced to dig into a past that was not up to him, of course, in that situation, his options were scarce.

He grunted, entering further into the city and moving to buy tickets for the train that would leave in the next few minutes - a journey that would turn into dawn again. He did not ponder much about how to act, followed his instinct soaked with tiredness and allowed him to lead him on the right path through a vague pulse of prior knowledge, slightly experiencing the subtle impression of being called: endless hours of travel by trains that followed for a very modest country town. It did not have large establishments or a large expanse of wooded territory. What drew his attention was precisely a small chapel in ruins in the most remote and hidden area of the small town. His intuition, something he never thought would work in his favor and which he believed he did not possess - and if he did, it was quite inefficient and defective - directed him to that location with a powerful wave of anxiety eating at him.

\- Who are you? And what are you doing here? - he heard behind him.

\- I am enjoying the nature, exploring the landscape - he gave a lame excuse without giving himself the luxury of checking who interrogated him.

He didn't really care, anyway.

"You can't go there, boy," the person insisted, not satisfied with the half-breed's carelessness. - You look like a foreigner, so I'll give you this warning: our goddess rests on this earth, don't you dare disturb her. Please go away.

\- Goddess? Interesting - he scratched his chin, intrigued by the information. - So that explains a lot and how long is this supposed goddess asleep?

"For centuries," he replied apprehensively. - I give you this advice because there have been crazy people who tried to invade this territory and never came back. But if you want to proceed, even after this alert, it is already at your own risk.

\- I like risks, that's the grace of meddling in dangerous matters - he shrugged, smiling. - Who knows, I might not gain something by helping her?

The man sighed and left.

There was a drawing on the door on which the half-breed readily ignored it and, without ceremony, opened it with an abrupt and disrespectful gesture, indicating how deteriorated the hinges were. The chapel was relegated to neglect, the ceiling was already partially collapsing and at the bottom, with a bizarre and repulsive texture, there was a type of cocoon. Dante came over to see such an abnormal phenomenon up close and, out of mere curiosity, rubbed his hand on the thing not quite sure it was a good plan, but he felt he should carry out that impulse.

A light discharge pierced his arm that served as a conductor for the supposed pupa that pulsed as if it were alive. Without thinking twice, he pulled out the twin pistols, Ebony and Ivory, prepared to take a special look at it.

The filaments of the silk-like material that cocoon was quite resistant and tore in half in a perfect vertical line and, surprisingly, a naked and faint woman emerged. She shifted a little and, taking in the world around her, her gaze stunned and innocent, looked at Dante, who almost immediately kept his weapons under the girl's watch. He avoided paying too much attention to her curves and certain naked parts that, in all her confusion, the woman had not noticed or simply did not care.

He took off his coat and covered it. She narrowed her eyes, making a lovely grimace, she seemed to be trying very hard to articulate a concrete sentence, although only baby-choking and noisy projects came out.

\- Spaa ... Spar ... Sparda? - she murmured softly.


	2. I

Dante wondered about the logic that motivated him to bring the woman with him. It was not like him to do charity nor to welcome strangers into his home, but he was not willing to leave her aware that he was responsible for her current condition. Despite the rumors circulating that she was supposed to be a deity, in her perception, she looked very much like a normal human girl without great extraordinary differences, perhaps the only detail to note was her strange cocoon that remained for a long time in a state of suspended animation for what understood. The people of that end of the world had a more fantastical and imaginative vision when openly declaring mere theories and the fact that she stayed asleep so long as the world around her evolved only further encouraged their belief.

  
Her reaction to seeing very ordinary everyday things gave her a vague idea that her sleep lasted much longer than she could have considered, really agreeing with the count of the man who intercepted her once. The young woman did not, at least yet, reason more in accordance with her age, her attitudes sounded like a child exploring the strange new world in which she had been abruptly inserted. Stirring everything that attracts your attention, staring at signs and passersby with curiosity.

Dante needed to figure out how to deal with the peculiar situation and find out more about the lady with unusual twists he encountered. Sitting in her chair, an old war companion, watched her combing everything in the room, wanting to learn more about the gadgets present there. At some point of distraction, as soon as he got tired of the jukebox, he looked at the old chandelier that swung vaguely like a moth caught in the irresistible charm of the light.

\- What is your name? Can you talk? - immediately, after the questions, the girl looked at him puzzled. The devil hunter, a little more patient, started using improvisation in mime to see if it worked to extract information from her. He repeated the phrase slowly, gesturing with his hands as best he could. She took a long time to get the message, but with a little difficulty she outlined a few words.

\- Name ... - he snorted as if that demanded more than his limited physical capacities allowed. - Arya.

A little awkwardly, she shot up to the half-demon, pointing at him as if she knew who it was.

\- Sparda?

Dante frowned.

\- No. I'm his son, Dante.

\- Son? - Repressed the laugh with her expression at the revelation, a mixture of incredulity with innocent surprise.

\- So, miss, did you meet my old man? Friends? Lovers? Battle colleagues?

"Friends," she replied disperse, examining, with a keen eye, the physical traces of Sparda's genetics in the hunter. She came closer and touched his face with a gentle lightness that baffled him to the point of freezing with the inspection, the sensation warmed him in a pleasant way, something that was not psychologically prepared. He pushed her hands away making sure he wasn't rude in his action.

He cleared his throat to regain his composure.

\- What were you doing sleeping in that place?

"Oh." She narrowed her eyes, considering what to say. - Hibernating.

\- Hibernating? - His eyebrow arched in grace.

\- Humans don't hibernate.

"I'm not human," she replied more firmly, irritated by the half-demon's slight mockery. - Humans live no more than two centuries.

\- That's the point, babe.

\- Did your father never talk about me? - Asked, leaning back on the table on which the half-breed lazily rested his legs.

\- No, I didn't even know it existed.

\- And where is he? It's strange that I haven't seen him until now and...

\- Dead. - interrupted without bothering to save details.

There was a long silence that went on for minutes, with only the jukebox music playing in the background. Arya stepped back, sitting on the couch with features that were difficult to predict, but she assumed that the news took her by surprise, not only that, it also caused a huge shock for someone who had been away for so long without contact with the new reality. She simply remained motionless, quiet, without gesturing or expressing her feelings.

Dante limited himself to the role of spectator while he watched her slowly absorb the truth at a faster rate than his reasoning more slowly compared to the normal condition of a healthy individual. An irritating voice from his conscience scolded him for his insensitivity when telling, without any modesty and emotion, a death, above all, because he was his father. For the hunter, being sad and living mourning miserably irremediable losses was not an integral part of his nature. He had a vision more focused on overcoming pain by living with it without wasting time imagining how the circumstances that marked him negatively would change. The past cannot be changed, only remembered and relived. Without much experience to offer adequate consolation, especially for a woman, he straightened up to did not appear sloppy and put his brain to work in a way to mitigate the damage it caused, however, there was nothing more than "let the situation unfold as it was".

\- I never imagined that ... That explains the fact that you came. - Arya nodded with mild melancholy engraved in the tender and delicate contours that make up the design of her face. - The perfect amulet warns you when the hour is approaching. My people have greater longevity and, to conserve this gift, we need to hibernate a certain period.

Dante noticed the tremor in the woman's hands, as if he were holding on to keep the image tall and strong and not to fall apart. It was strange for him to confront a fragment of his old man's story and feel helpless in front of it.

\- The last time I wandered in this world, there was not even half of what is currently essential for survival. It was so many years, maybe more than fifty and... I didn't imagine I wouldn't see your father again.

Arya sighed, however, opposing what she deduced, she accepted the fact well, without a chaos of unnecessary crying that he would have no means to resolve.

"Me," he cursed that his damned mouth had thrown him into it before he had a chance to formulate something smart. - I can help you, in my old man's place if you wish.

\- It's kind of you - Arya smiled shyly and, inexplicably, it was as if the whole environment was bathed in a warm and captivating light. - I just need clothes now.

"I don't have women's clothing here, as you can see, I live alone," he commented, standing up. - If you prefer you can use my clothes.

\- Is that how you flirt today? - Arya joked, casting a warm and good-natured look at the half-breed, who, in turn, broke into a smile contagious by the cheeky joke.

\- I haven't started yet, babe.

"Lead the way," he laughed, following the half-demon down a staircase and a small corridor.

Dante led her into the bedroom, unlocking the door and indicating for her to enter with a theatrical gesture.

"You have a peculiar decorating style," she murmured absently, sweeping the entire length of the room and analyzing the posters of almost naked women, using pieces that barely covered them.

"Here," he handed her a black shirt, which, judging by her physique, he thought would fit perfectly.

Arya took the suit and, shamelessly, took off the coat that covered her under Dante's watchful, slightly astonished gaze, who strolled the woman's bare curves. She dressed as if the man in the room did not intimidate her by undressing so casually.

\- What's it?

\- Nothing. He muttered, turning his face away.

\- Something wrong with being naked? You never saw a naked woman, did you?  
The hunter cleared his throat. Normally he, in his acid and cynical way, which provoked both allies and enemies, for the first time in years, did not find an answer that suited Arya and her trick questions.

\- Don't worry, I'm fine with that.

He made a snort that elicited a sweet laugh from the girl.

\- My stay here will be a lot of fun apparently.


End file.
